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MT. MAUNA KEA, 13,796 FT.
Non-Fiction by G. Perez
The beauty of the Big Island of Hawaii can be deceiving. From a
distance the two giant mountains seem to rise into the heavens. No
matter where you are located on the island of Hawaii
Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa represent mountains in a huge way.
Their size in the thirteen thousand feet range will dominate any
landscape. One active and one dormant these volcanoes attract flocks
of tourist by the thousands. Not only can one see actual lava flowing,
one can also ski on real snow or explore the universe from some of the
best observatories in the world. The most common method of exploring
these massive mountains is either by helicopter or by four wheel drive
vehicle. Some will go on leisure hikes to enjoy it's beauty from up
close. But what I volunteered for one winter day has to be one of my
greatest blunders in my young life.
After encouraging my best Marine buddy to accompany me on the journey
to the summit of Mt.
Mauna Kea I often wonder why he remained my friend. Our
training base is located at the base of the gigantic mountain. It's
nick name is PTA, or Pohukaloa Training Area. It is an old Army base
located in between the two mountains just off of Saddle Road. The
elevation here is about six thousand eight hundred feet. Lava is
everywhere and this is the Marine Corps live fire play ground. The
training is rough and the time off is well deserved. So when
volunteers were asked for to climb the rock, I was one of the first
idiots with my hand high up in the air. The trek would commence on
Saturday morning at 0800. Our group would be comprised of a corpsmen,
twenty grunts, and two very very naive radio operators. As usual a
radio was soon attached to my already fatigued back. No special gear
was needed, only our "deuce gear" and soft covers would accompany us
on this day. Extra water and snacks were also brought with us to
render aid when needed. After morning chow and some calisthenics "H"
hour was upon us. The journey up seven thousand plus feet had begun
and everyone was all smiles.
In order to summit a mountain in one piece you must climb in a "zig
zag" fashion. To walk directly upwards towards the top would result in
a heart attack at some point. No one climbs in this fashion, it is
just impossible unless you have years to accomplish this mission. So
off we went. The sun shining, soft breeze blowing and the birds were
softly gliding through the crisp winter air. Zigging and zagging this
phase of the climb was a walk in the park. We were smoking and joking
as we attacked the countless feet of solid earth. Our leaders
estimation was to accomplish this mission in about six and a half
hours. Or somewhere in that time frame. The peak is not visible from
our position due to the fact that this mountain is just enormous in
size. It is as if one mountain is stacked on top of another. So as we
would reach what seemed like a summit, another tiny summit was visible
out in the distance. The soil down here is loose and comprised of
smaller rocks. As the elevation increases so does the size of the
rocks. Like a cruel game of follow the leader this adventure quickly
became a nightmare for our group. Who new hell existed at such a high
elevation.
The sun began to take it's toll. Although our elevation was increasing
the glare of the sun also decided to increase in it's intensity.
Chapstick and sunscreen became the norm. Even for the "dark green"
Marines sunscreen was a must. As we rested to eat our chow I realized
this view was priceless. So a tourist I became and snapped away. My
disposable camera became my best friend as others had not foreseen the
need to bring one. Puff on the last hit of my cigarette and off we
went. Soreness was now beginning to hinder me. My feet were noticeably
becoming extremely heavier than usual and my head became a bit light.
Others were experiencing the same symptoms as I was. But we kept it
hush hush as every bad to the bone Marine would do. My hushness lasted
only about another half hour. My boots scraping along and my walk
without purpose. By this time the officer in charge gathered his men
and made his speech. "From this moment forward no one will be allowed
to quit. Due to the fact that helicopters can not fly this high we
must all go on. If one of us can not go on then this is where you go
back". To no ones surprise no body took up his offer that afternoon
and like burros in the grand canyon off we went again.
After yelling for the "doc" I explained that every muscle in my body
was beginning to cramp up. He said "this is normal at high altitudes."
I was starting to walk side ways instead of forward and my every piece
of equipment seemed to of have tripled in weight. As we continued my
shortness of breath was starting to make me worry. I now knew I must
control my breathing or I would be in for a very memorable unwanted
day. My buddy relieved me of my radio duties and my water started to
weigh me down. One foot in front of the other we continued up Mt.
Mauna Kea. I was not the only Marine in pain that day but that
didn't make me feel any better. I must say the view three hundred and
sixty degrees round was "moon" like. Massive slabs of rock were piled
on top of each other. At times the enormous slabs became huge round
boulders. Nothing little enough to hold in our hands. It then dawned
on me that I could be the first Marine to ever walk on certain rocks.
And I could also be the first Marine to die on a particular rock. Our
column of Marines and one sailor seemed to be spread out very far.
Stragglers were starting to drift noticeably to much to either side.
Zig zagging was no longer a must but zigging was the plan of the day.
Cool air burns the throat as hot flames burn the feet. Sweat when hit
by wind quickly becomes chilly and dries to form salt marks. Uniforms
are flapping in the wind as the weather becomes unpredictable. We are
now in heaven and the pain will not let up. Walking through clouds
will definitely make one contemplate his decision to volunteer for
anything. The clouds are cool and wet and can be moved by swatting at
them. Man will do anything to occupy his mind to keep from going crazy
when his limits are being tested. So a swatting Marines I was. We
finally managed to clear the clouds and then we took another break.
Salt tablets and water went down like steak and beer. At this point
the human body does not know what it wants. Stopping only prolonged
the pain so our breaks were cut shorter and shorter. To light headed
and winded to puff one up, but what the hell we all gotta die
sometime. Cigarettes at this elevation taste like crap. Come to think
of it everything up here taste like crap. It's a very strange feeling
when one looks around and sees no one and nothing familiar. The look
downhill is temporarily covered by the clouds and no animals aside
from us can be seen or heard. If one was to meet his maker up here it
would definitely be a very peaceful way to go. The sound is eerily
quiet and no echo exist. We are on land not many have stepped foot on
nor have many seen. The summit is not gonna come to us so once again
we saddle up and suck it up!
The pace is extremely slow and our column is undisciplined. At times
it seems to me as if zombies are behind me. Our movements are
unpredictable and our appearances are of pure exhaustion. The human
body when pushed to extreme limits will show you who is in charge. A
strong mind on this day nets you a huge advantage. We started like a
walk in the park and now we are walking with the devil. Like a ton of
rocks thrown out a window down goes a Marine. He twitches and will now
receive a "shot" of adrenaline. I notice he is twitching on a huge
black rock. It's the only black rock up here. I'm guessing this
mountain was a bit prejudice. By the time I reach SGT "Twitch a lot"
he is doing better. He babbles something to me and I babble back.
Quitting is never an option but suicide is often contemplated. The
problem is there is nothing to kill ourselves with up here. I remember
thinking to myself "if ever I was to
grow wings and fly, this would be a good time for it to happen."
I had had it. No mas for this cowboy. See you all in
hell...Hallucinations become common through my eyes and I begin to
question whether the summit was meant for me to see. My buddy quickly
points out my options..either hurry up and die or move your silly ass.
What a motivator he was that day. For my ass continued to drag but in
the direction of the summit.
By hour number seven and a half my water was dried up. Come to think
of it not many had any liquid gold left. Even our reserve storage had
been tapped dry. As if all my ailments were not enough I now began to
hear things. I was hearing my First Sgt. yell that "the top is
visible". Only this was no dream, he was yelling from the front of
our broken column. He could see what everyone was wanting to see. At
the summit enormous
golf balls awaited us. I wondered if these balls were purposely
put up here to show one and all what it takes to make it up here. They
were property of the
University of Hawaii. I was still about thirty minutes from any
golfing but his words did put a small flame under my ass. Left right
left right I do not remember how this was possible. I felt like
throwing up, my head hurt, my feet blistered, my shoulders stiff, my
nose throbbing, my lungs burning, my every muscle twitching and my
joints aching. But asides from that I felt like a million dollars. I
would soon be sitting on the highest point in the Pacific and the
highest point in the world if measured from underneath the sea to the
top. A Marine Recon squad had accomplished this same mission in under
five hours. So there was no doubt that we were not Recon Marines. My
eyes could see Marines resting and laying on a road while others
reenacted Mt Surabachi. Marines are such weirdos. After nearly dieing
we are now filled with energy and a party seems appropriate. Like the
turtle in a race here I came. BOOM. I undo my harness and let it fall.
I holler for water and it taste as good as a cold Budweiser on a hot
summer day. MRE's are issued and some decide to get an I.V. The body
is hungry and the MRE taste like chicken ala king. So now life is
coming back. WOW this nightmare is over and I can not get up. My buddy
helps me up and we pull out our sign that we had made back at base. It
reads, " 13,796 ft into the sky. Perez and Jones are in heaven on this
day. Semper Fi 1/3 Comm. kicks ass!!" Pictures are priceless and so is
a friendship. Semper Fi!
G. Perez
USMC
email lavadogmarineone@yahoo.com
G. Perez
USMC
Posted 01/24/2008
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